


Long Forgotten Home

by willow_waters



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 12:36:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3569936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willow_waters/pseuds/willow_waters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is essentially a retelling of the Peter Jackson <i> Hobbit <i></i></i> films, edited and filled in in accordance with as much as the original material would allow. I found it a creative challenge to imagine what was quite possibly going on in between, above and beyond what was being shown on screen. So you know the story, but if you want to know a little more, as well as see the tale unfold through characters' eyes, keep reading ;)! This is the first female/male story that I've been inspired to write because it's the most interested in a hetero couple I've ever been. I guess I was just really moved by their story. Don't really know what else I can say besides that! Enjoyyyy</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Forgotten Home

1.

 They had been walking for hours. At first they had gone into the forest with their customary banter that was as sincere as it was a display for each other. They had larked and made crude jokes and poked fun at each other and spilled mead into their beards as they took hearty swigs of mead. Now they felt as miserable as damp on a camp fire, and their spirits were gloomy in the strange way that dwarf spirits could become. No one had said that they were afraid on entering the forest. No one had displayed doubts as Galdalf had left them and told them to be good, (only Gandalf could dare such a comment, they would have drawn blades at any other) and stay on the path, whatever they did. Of course they hadn't, to do so would have been against their nature, and dwarves, in some ways more than any other race and perhaps due to their stubbornness, were not ever known to go against their nature. They liked their mountains and stones, they liked the power within a situation to be simple and obviously theirs. They didn't like new territory that's silence they had to fill. How many miles upon miles had they trudged upon this one loop of thin,eerie path? It was wretchedly enchanted. Dwarves hated enchantment, hated magic and trickery, that was elf domain. They were strong enough to walk in the open. Dwarves were enduring, in many ways they were like the material they loved most; stone. They shared it's weaknesses and its strengths. When a Dwarf's feet began to ache even slightly, he knew that he had walked a very great distance. Thorin powered on grimly; a noble cast of bitterness and loss. He spared a glance at Bilbo, whose head was hung in exhaustion as if he were becoming less and less aware of his surrounding, and was trapped within a personal torture. That creature, that hobbit, it had been a mistake to bring him. Hadn't it? Thorin loathed doubt. At least the creature was still able to walk.

"What trickery is this?" He whispered under his breath. A few of the dwarves focussed on him momentarily at the sound of his voice. Fíli exhaled loudly and threw a small pebble a short distance. Even its impact felt dead and stilted in their foggy environment. It was not natural. The leaves looked as if they could crumble to ash.

 


End file.
